


A Game Of Chicken

by smarmsi



Series: Balcony Kisses (Er, Sorta) [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Almost Kiss, Bad Puns, Balcony Scene, Chat Noir Being Chat Noir, Confident Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Crack, F/M, Flirting, Flirty Chat Noir, chat noir falls off the balcony, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-19 23:45:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarmsi/pseuds/smarmsi
Summary: Marinette decides to play a game with her kitty. It doesn't end the way she expects.





	A Game Of Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> I realized how often Chat sits like [this](http://maiitsu.tumblr.com/post/138090342100/tomdupain-chat-noir-crouching-in-ep-16-feat)  
> Like - child, how jacked are your thighs?
> 
> Also, I apologize for the puns in this. They are sub-par and I am ashamed.  
> -  
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://smarmsi.tumblr.com)!

Marinette thinks she should maybe switch up her watering schedule, since Chat Noir has _clearly_ memorized it. She barely even registers the superhero perched on her balcony anymore when she goes to fill up her watering can.

“As beauti-fur as your flowers are, princess, they don’t com-paw to you.” Marinette doesn’t have to turn around to know there’s a smug grin on his face. Her roses look a little unhappy and she wonders if she should buy some fertilizer.

“Kitty, I’ll plant some catnip for you if you stop insulting my poor roses with awful cat puns,” she says. Her watering can is nearly empty before she realizes he hasn’t responded. She turns, half-wondering if he’d left already, only to see him still crouched on her railing with a look on his face that she doesn’t know how to interpret.

“What?”

“Why do you do that?” he asks, brow furrowing and ears flicking. Her smile turns bemused. “Deflect compliments. Ignore flirting.” His eyes are oddly intense. She blinks and huffs out an incredulous laugh, stepping closer to him.

“Well, what else would I do? Blush and stammer like a fool?” _Like you do around Adrien, you mean?_ A voice whispers, sounding suspiciously like Alya, but she ignores it. Chat chuckles, and Marinette hadn’t even noticed the mounting tension until it dissipated.

“While that would be in-claw-dibly a-meow-sing, I don’t think that’s quite, hmmm, _you_.” He laughs again, like something incredibly funny has occurred. “But you really don’t react to anything! What’s a cat to do?” Marinette puts a hand to her chin and lifts her gaze, pretending to think. Then she snaps her fingers as though she’s had an idea, prompting an eager look from him.

“Drop the puns, for starters.” Chat gasps dramatically, hand lifting to his brow as he leans precariously to the side.

“My puns are paw-sitively purr-fect fur flirting! I’m wounded, princess!” Marinette laughs, against her better judgement, and a hand on her hip.

“Three puns in one sentence? That’s really pushing it, kitty cat.” She taps him on the nose and turns away. He straightens, scowling in mock fury.

“Well, what’s your technique, then? Unless…” His face shifts from frustrated to teasing. “Unless you’ve never flirted with any-paw-dy before.” Marinette shifts her weight to one foot, giving him a wary look—and damn, she’s given herself away. As she watches, his expression turns from teasing to incredulous to downright _sly_. “Purr-incess,” he says, dragging the nickname out, “do you even know _how_ to flirt?”

“I—yes! Of course I do!” She can feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. Chat looks absolutely gleeful. Her mind races, trying to find any possible way to keep both her dignity and her sanity when Chat seems determined to throw them away.

“Really,” he says, a smirk stretched wide across his lips. He crosses his arms and leans back. She gets a sudden idea.

“Of course, kitty,” she purrs, channeling Ladybug. She lets her chin drop and looks at him from beneath her lashes. The smirk comes naturally, and she cocks a hip to balance herself. Chat’s teasing expression drops, surprise lacing his features. She can almost see the way his brain halts and then tries to catch up with the sudden shift in her demeanor.

Oh, how she loves playing with her kitty cat.

“Wh-what?” he stammers, then coughs. “I mean,” and _there_. He’s back in the game. “You must be kitten me. You, flirting?” She hums, taking a step closer, and watches him scramble.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make you _nervous_. You seem a little skittish, kitty,” and his eyes light at the challenge. 

“Princess, a cat of my caliber doesn’t get _skittish_.” Marinette’s eyebrow lifts. A dare, then. She tips her head before making her move.

Her movements are slow and sure as she crowds him where he’s still crouched on the railing, stepping between his spread thighs. Her hands come to rest on his knees and she leans close enough to hear the hitch in his breath before his throat clicks, mouth dropping open and eyes widening. _Just a little more_. She leans forward, barely inches from his face. Chat stops breathing completely.

“You’re stunning,” she murmurs, dragging her hands up and nearly _caressing_ his thighs. 

Chat chokes, and reacts instinctively to a pretty girl getting up in his business—that is, he jerks backward in surprise.

Unfortunately, “backwards” in this situation means open air and the ground four stories below.

Marinette’s heart stops dead in her chest when he overbalances with a yelp, but the hand that shoots out to grab him misses him by an inch.

Very luckily, Chat’s reflexes kick in and he catches himself on the corner of the roof, but Marinette’s heart doesn’t leave her throat until he’s back on the balcony, this time with his feet solid on the ground. His face is a brilliant red, but Marinette is too mortified to enjoy it.

“I’m so sorry! That was too forward of me, I shouldn’t have done it, I’m sorry,” Marinette rambles, face once again radiating heat. Chat holds up a hand, cutting her short. She waits in suspense.

“I,” he starts, but seems to lose his train of thought. “You...” His hand falls to his side, limp. “That…”

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette cries once more, increasingly worried for his brain health. He blinks at her.

“No, no, you…” He suddenly grins sheepishly, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “That was really good, princess! Who knew you had it in you?”

“What?” she asks, confused at his suddenly cheery expression. He sweeps a bow to her.

“I fully admit defeat! That was a paw-some victory, purr-incess!” His face is still cherry-red when he pops back up, and his ears flick back and forth restlessly. “Un-fur-tunately, I must take my leave now! Stay claw-some!” With that, he leaps away, and Marinette is left alone on her balcony, still trying to process what’s just happened.

It’s only later, when she’s tucked into bed, that she finally starts screaming into her pillow. Had she really done that? Had she really _felt up_ her partner as a civilian? She was going to die of embarrassment if he ever came back.

The part of her brain that sounds too much like Alya starts remembering how his thighs felt beneath her hands, the leather cool and his defined muscles straining to balance, the way he had leaned into the touch seconds before jerking away. She swallows thickly and then shoves her Alya-brain into the corner, steadfastly refusing to think any more about the subject. But she can’t help screaming into her pillow a little more.

And the next day, if Adrien refuses to look her in the eye all morning, she doesn’t notice, because her mind is still shrieking.

**Author's Note:**

> again, tumblr is [here](http://smarmsi.tumblr.com).


End file.
